He stroked her hair. ‘Juanita will be upset—upset that she can’t control the weather.’
Mia gave a spurt of laughter although she said, ‘Now that’s unkind. She’s not that bossy. Is she?’
He shrugged and traced the line of her jaw with his finger. ‘She has actually run into one spot of bother with Damien. Over naming the twins.’
‘Oh, tell me about it, and about them! All I know is that it’s a boy and a girl.’
His fingers traced a path down her neck to the little hollows at the base of her throat. ‘True. And Juanita wants to name them Charlotte and Henry—if that isn’t aspiring to the aristocracy I don’t know what is. But Damien wants to call them Barbara and Banjo. His grandmother who he’s very fond of is a Barbara—I don’t know where he got Banjo from—apart from Banjo Paterson. Up until I last saw them yesterday, the issue was still to be decided.’
Mia had to laugh. ‘They’re leaving it a bit late.’
‘Mmm,’ he said, sounding preoccupied and his fingers slid down to the top button of her blouse. ‘I’m a godfather, by the way. You’ll probably have to help me out a bit there.’
But Mia had other things on her mind as he flicked open the button, and then the next and the next and slipped his hands around her back and released her bra.
She took several ragged breaths but didn’t protest as he drew her blouse off and then helped her out of her bra.
Nor did she protest when he said, ‘What we need is a bed.’
‘This might be a good place to remedy that.’ Her dimples appeared. ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet, Mr O’Connor,’ she teased. ‘Not until you see the bedroom.’
‘OK, lead on.’ He picked her up.
* * *
What he said next was somewhat different.
‘Holy...mackerel!’ He looked around the honeymoon suite bedroom, a symphony of white and green with a huge bed piled with cushions, an exquisite original painting of flowers taking up almost all of one wall, deep pile carpet, a padded velvet headboard and a beautiful crystal chandelier.
Mia laughed softly. ‘Think I might have gone overboard?’
‘Not at all.’ He put her down on the bed and together they tossed aside all the silken cushions, then they shed their clothes and Mia could not doubt his desperate hunger for her, nor hers for him.
And when they crashed back to earth, he held her and helped her down from the heights in such a way that caused her to say with real gratitude, ‘You make me feel as if I’ve come home.’
He cradled her to him. ‘You make me feel the same. When will you marry me?’
‘Whenever we can.’
He rubbed his jaw. ‘I’ve got this damn christening tomorrow. I don’t suppose I can get out of that.’
‘Oh, no, you shouldn’t! Anyway, we couldn’t do it tomorrow, could we?’
He leant up on his elbow. ‘No. I don’t know how long it takes.’ He tidied some damp wayward strands of her hair and pulled a silk coverlet over them. ‘Will you come to the christening with me?’
‘Carlos, I’ll be working at it,’ she reminded him.
‘No,’ he replied firmly. ‘Get Gail and her mother and anyone else you can raise—Bill and Lucy—you’ve done it before. I need you with me, otherwise my family might prompt me into...being rude or unkind to them.’
Mia giggled but she soon sobered. ‘Your mother will be livid. Perhaps an occasion like a christening isn’t the right time to break the news to her.’
‘My mother is not nearly as interfering as she was, Mia, but, whatever, there’s no point in hiding it.’
Mia thought for a moment, then, ‘No. Anyway, I think we have to break the news to Gail. She’ll be wondering where on earth I’ve got to.’
He stretched and looked disinclined to move.
‘She could even come looking for me,’ Mia said gravely, ‘and we didn’t lock the door.’
Carlos swore beneath his breath, then rolled over and enveloped her in a bear hug. ‘All right. I get the message. I don’t suppose we could shower together?’
‘Ah.’ Mia looked mischievous. ‘We sure can. Come and have a look. This is the bathroom to beat all bathrooms.’
* * *
‘There you are, Mia!’ Gail said as Mia walked into her office to find Gail behind the desk fielding the phone. ‘I’ve been looking for you. There’s—oh, no,’ she added as Carlos walked in behind Mia. ‘Not you again.’
Carlos looked briefly startled, then amused. ‘Sorry, Gail. I didn’t realise I was on your blacklist. Why am I?’
Mia cleared her throat and started to speak but Gail overrode her. ‘Why are you? You come and you go, Mr O’Connor, and every time you go I’m left to pick up the pieces.’
‘Gail!’ Mia protested.
Gail swung towards her. ‘It’s true. You’ve been devastated every time it’s happened and—’
‘Gail—’ it was Carlos who intervened and he took Mia’s hand ‘—there won’t be any more of that. Mia’s agreed to marry me, we’re very much in love and we’ve smoothed out all our problems. But I’d just like to say I can’t thank you enough for being such a good friend to Mia.’
Gail stood stock-still then she ran round the desk to embrace Mia and then Carlos
‘Oh, I’m so happy,’ she cried tearfully. ‘I don’t know if I’m coming or going. When? When’s the wedding? Are you having it up here? You could leave it all to me, you know.’
Mia was also mopping up some tears as she said, ‘We haven’t made any plans yet but, Gail, you’ll have to handle the christening tomorrow because I’m going as a guest.’
‘With pleasure.’ Gail struck a nonchalant pose. ‘I could do it in my sleep.’
* * *
Mia and Carlos were still chuckling as they walked into the garden as the sun set but he stopped suddenly and put his arms around her.
‘I feel terrible,’ he said, looking down at her.
‘Why?’
‘For leaving you devastated up here. I’m not sure why you’ve forgiven me.’
She slipped her arms around his neck. ‘What Gail doesn’t realise is that I sent you away.’ She stood on her toes and kissed him.
‘Even if it devastated you?’
She nodded and laid her head on his shoulder. ‘What about you?’
‘Angry, incredulous, bloody-minded probably says it well, every time I drove down this blasted mountain. Sick to think it meant more to you than I did, this place. All in all, a mess.’
‘Well—’ Mia stirred ‘—since it seems we’ve both been to hell and back, let’s go to heaven.’
He lifted his head, his grey eyes amused. ‘I hope you don’t mean that literally?’
‘Depends! Let’s go back to the honeymoon suite—’
‘You’re not worried about putting the cart before the horse?’ he broke in gravely.
‘Not in the least. I was thinking of cooking you dinner, you see—an inch-thick steak, chips that are crisp on the outside and fluffy inside—oh, some English mustard hot enough to make your eyes water, some salad, but only iceberg lettuce, of course, maybe some mushrooms. I just have to collect the ingredients from the house.’
‘Now that,’ he drawled, ‘is an offer I can’t refuse.’
‘Good.’ She dimpled. ‘Then we can worry about putting the cart before the horse.’
He grinned down at her. ‘I can see you’re going to be a right handful, Miss Gardiner.’
‘It’s my aim,’ she said pertly.
CHAPTER TEN
THE DAY JUANITA’S twins were christened was a day to remember. It was cool and showery, as predicted.
Mia drove to her cottage and collected her clothes.
As she was about to climb back into the car, Bill intercepted her with a particularly Bill James-like salutation. He was driving the property utility, laden with bags of fertiliser, and he drew up beside her and leant out of his window.
‘Hi, Mia! Heard the news, by the way—you’ll be much happier as
a married woman, believe me.’
Mia drew a deep breath and cautioned herself not to lose her temper. ‘Thank you, Bill. I...I will try to be.’
‘And you give Carlos my best wishes. I guess he must know what he’s getting into, although not many of us guys do!’ And, laughing cheerfully, he drove on.
Mia contemplated kicking something but refrained.
She must have still been wearing the remnants of a militant expression when she arrived back at the honeymoon suite, however, because Carlos immediately said to her, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ She put down her clothes. ‘How do you know anything’s wrong, anyway?
‘You look—’ he meditated ‘—as if you’d like to kick the cat.’
Mia grimaced, then had to laugh ruefully and she told him about Bill.
‘Of course I wouldn’t dare to agree with him,’ he replied with utter false gravity.
Mia clicked her tongue. ‘You men are all the same.’ She paused and fiddled with her cosmetic purse before putting it down beside her clothes and starting to plait her fingers.
‘Carlos, I’m nervous. I’m really nervous. I don’t think I can do this.’
‘Mia—’ he linked his arms around her waist ‘—yes, you can. Anyway, they all know now.’
She put her hands on his chest, her eyes wide. ‘Your mother? Did she have a fit?’
‘No. She told me it was about time I settled down. Juanita said the same. Mind you—’ he frowned faintly ‘—I got the feeling something else was going on. They both seemed preoccupied, if not to say tense, and that was before I broke our news.’
Mia relaxed a bit. ‘I hope so. I mean...all I mean is I’d rather not be the headline news.’
He bent his head and kissed her. ‘You were my headline news last night. You have a unique way of putting the cart before the horse.’
A tingle ran through Mia at the memory of their night. ‘It was lovely, wasn’t it?’ she said softly.
This time he hugged her, then, with an obvious effort, put her away from him. ‘Maybe we should get dressed,’ he suggested. ‘We have been known to—’ there was a wicked little glint in his grey eyes ‘—get carried away when we should be on our way out.’
Mia laughed and stood on her toes and kissed him. ‘I remember. I’m going.’
He groaned but didn’t try to stop her.
* * *
Mia changed into a figure-hugging yellow dress and a smoky grey-blue jacket belted at the waist. She’d decided not to wear any kind of hat for this christening and saw no reason to change her mind now she was a guest so she left her hair wild and riotous, just as he liked it.
But she drew an unexpected breath at the sight of Carlos in a pinstriped charcoal suit, pale green shirt and darker green tie.
‘You look seriously handsome,’ she told him.
He came to stand right in front of her. ‘Good enough to be a godfather?’
‘Oh, definitely!’
‘Well, you look gorgeous, Mia, darling.’ He took her hand. ‘Ready?’
She hesitated, then nodded. ‘Ready,’ she said quietly.
* * *
It stopped raining as the baptism proceeded.
There was even some sunlight bringing rays of colour into the church through the stained glass windows, violet and topaz, jade and ruby.
Arancha was arrayed in ivory shantung: an exquisitely tailored suit and a poppy-pink hat. She had acknowledged Mia with an almost non-existent kiss on the cheek but she’d said, ‘Let’s be friends, Mia, let’s be friends.’
And Mia, who had searched her heart and known she could never altogether forgive Arancha, had contrived to reply warmly, for Carlos’s sake, ‘Yes, let’s.’
She’d then been introduced to Arancha’s celebrity chef, who’d told her he could probably give her some pretty good tips on cuisine and all sorts of things to do with the catering business.
Mia had felt Carlos tense beside her so she’d smiled brilliantly and replied that she’d love to hear them.
Juanita wore violet linen and Damien wore a dark suit. They both looked a little shell-shocked for some reason and each carried a sleeping baby garbed in a sumptuous lacy gown.
It wasn’t until the naming of the babies came about that most of the mysteries of the morning were explained. The girl was baptised Alegria Arancha and the boy Benito Francis.
‘Good Spanish names,’ Arancha said quite audibly, ‘and why not include the mother’s mother?’
Mia heard Carlos suck in a breath but it wasn’t until the baptism was over and they were in the car heading back to Bellbird that they were able to give way to their mirth.
‘For crying out loud,’ Carlos said. ‘She must have bulldozed away at both of them to get them to change their minds.’
‘I thought you told me she didn’t interfere anymore?’ Mia had to dab carefully at her eyes so as not to smudge her mascara.
‘I didn’t think she did! Something about Charlotte or Barbara, Henry or Banjo must have really riled her.’
‘Well, I thought Juanita could stand up to her.’
‘I thought she could. I was wrong. Mind you, the fight over names between Juanita and Damien was beginning to assume epic proportions so it could even have been a stroke of genius.’
Mia put her hanky away but she was still chuckling.
‘You were good with my mother and her chef,’ Carlos said as he swung into Bellbird’s drive.
‘I intend to stay good with her.’ Mia put a hand on his arm. ‘I don’t know why but I feel different all of a sudden.’
‘Different?’ He looked comically apprehensive for a moment. ‘How so?’
Mia drew a deep breath. ‘I don’t feel like the housekeeper’s daughter any more. I wonder why?’
‘Could it be because you’re about to become—and willingly—the padrone’s wife?’ he suggested.
But Mia shook her head although she acknowledged his rueful look with the glint of a smile. ‘No, I think it’s because suddenly you all seem so normal.’
‘I would have thought we were all bordering on insanity,’ he objected and pulled up in front of the house.
‘Not really. You have your fights, your ups and downs, your loyalties, your crazy times, just like everyone else. Look—’ she shook her head and her expression was wry ‘—I know it sounds ridiculous to you for me to say I hadn’t seen you all like that before, but it’s true. And it makes me feel different.’
He turned to her and put an arm along the back of her seat. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Uh-huh!’
‘Well—’ he paused ‘—I’ve had a thought. It’s occurred to me that I’ve neglected them for a time. It’s occurred to me I ought to undertake some fence-mending exercises, like somehow getting Damien to forgive my mother for insisting he call his son Benito. Ditto Juanita. And it looked to me as if Damien and Juanita are feeling just about as hostile towards each other as it’s possible to be, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Oh, I do! They didn’t even look at each other.’
‘Right. I must say, I don’t know what I can do about the celebrity chef who’s popped up in our midst but—do you remember the wedding you had here that was about to flop unless you were able to pull something out of the hat?’
Mia’s eyes widened. ‘Yes...’
‘From memory, you actually exhorted me to make the kind of speech only I could make to liven things up or you’d scream blue murder?’
Mia’s lips twitched. ‘I do,’ she said solemnly.
‘Can you promise me, though, that if I do stop this christening from flopping and manage to turn it into a happy, even joyful occasion, you won’t go back to feeling like the housekeeper’s daughter?’
‘I won’t, I promise,’ she said huskily. ‘Please do it. I love you,’ she told him, smiling through the tears in her eyes. ‘I love you, Carlos O’Connor.’
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from One Night Heir by Lucy Monroe
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CHAPTER ONE
FURY RIDING HIM like an angry stallion, Crown Prince Maksim of Volyarus let loose with a punch-cross-hook kickboxing combo against his cousin and sparring partner.
Demyan blocked, and the sound of flesh hitting pads mixed with his grunt of surprise. “Something the matter, your highness?”
Maks hated when his cousin, older by four years and raised as a brother with Maks in their family’s palace, referred to him by his title.
Demyan was well aware, but the older man liked pushing buttons, especially during their workout sessions. He said it made the sparring more intense.
Today would have been sufficiently punishing without the added irritation. Not that Maks warned Demyan of that. His cousin deserved what he got.
“Nothing wiping the smug look off your face won’t take care of.” Maks danced back before driving forward with another fast-paced, grueling combo.
Well-matched in stature and strength, they both kept their six-feet-four-inch frames in top physical condition.
“I thought tonight was the big night with Gillian,” Demyan said, scrambling in a way he rarely did during their sessions. “Don’t tell me you think she’s going to turn you down?”
“If I were going to ask, she’d say yes.” And a day ago that certainty had given Maks a great deal of pleasure.
Now, it just taunted him with what he couldn’t have. Namely, Gillian.
The Return of Her Past Page 14